


AM

by justwondered



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Aliens, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Magical Realism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:09:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27290992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justwondered/pseuds/justwondered
Summary: Harry loved Louis, but Louis changed.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 1
Kudos: 2





	AM

**Author's Note:**

> this is what happens when you listen to a lot of Joni Mitchell after rewatching the twilight zone movie. might add more chapters later xx

Another night, another hotel room. This one had carpet patterned like a topographical map, concentric wobbling ovals on a nondescript grey background and lines like rivers meandering between them. Harry found himself following a continuous line all the way from his feet to where it disappeared under the bed. He wondered where it went from there. _If he got down on the floor and crawled, could he follow it to the other side and out from under the bed? Or did it end somewhere under there, in the dark?_

The balcony door was ajar, the smell of cigarettes and chlorine drifting in on the breeze. The curtains rustled, their gentle sound accompanying a quiet, lilting humming coming from outside. Harry followed the sound without thinking, mesmerized.

The humming grew softer the closer he got to it until it was barely more than a whisper on the wind. Still, as he approached the balcony door he inexplicably knew he’d almost reached its source. He pushed at the door, then pushed again, harder. It wouldn’t budge. He tried pulling, but no dice. The thing was stuck. He threw all of his weight into it, growing desperate. The source of the sound was right there, he knew it, but he couldn’t see it. He couldn’t reach it. A bead of sweat slid down his forehead. He blinked rapidly at the sudden moisture in his eyes.

The click of a keycard in the hotel room door was startlingly loud to his straining ears. He turned, caught in the growing triangle of light spilling in from the hall as the door opened. He shut his eyes against it, listening for the humming, afraid it might disappear.

“Harry,” footsteps from the direction of the hallway, then a hand on his shoulder, a brief brush of lips against his sweaty temple. “What’s wrong?”

The humming continued, faintly, but the melody changed. Staccato notes replaced legato ones, the pitch swooped lower. Harry turned and renewed his efforts to move the balcony door, gripping the knob with both hands and pulling, hard. “The balcony door is stuck,” he said, distracted, frustrated, angry with the whole endeavour.

Louis sighed, gently covering Harry’s hands with his own and removing them from the doorknob. “Let me try,” he said. “Maybe I can get it.”

Harry twisted in the circle of his arms, frowning at him. “If I can’t get it, I doubt you’ll have any luck either,” he said, annoyed. “But go ahead, be my guest.” He wriggled out of Louis’ loose embrace and flopped onto the bed to watch. The humming crescendoed slightly.

 _Was he always like this?_ He thought to himself. _Did he always look like that?_ He stared at Louis, watched the muscles move under his tee shirt as he pushed bodily on the door. His tattoos shifted as he flexed, their shapes distorted along his arms. Harry wouldn’t know what some of them were if he hadn’t memorized every single one of them already. Sometimes when he couldn’t sleep he ran through them in his head in the order Louis had them done. Bitterly, he wondered how many new ones Louis had gotten since he’d last seen him.

The door still wasn’t budging. “Lou, c’mon, let’s just give up. It’s not moving.”

Louis turned and shrugged. “Alright then,” he said easily, smiling. “No arguments here.”

Harry loved Louis’ smile. He felt overwhelmed by it. He didn’t know what to do with it. He swallowed up the lump in his throat. “C’mere,” he said. “Come to bed.”

Louis looked at him strangely, but obeyed. He sat down next to him, still smiling crookedly in the half-light of the hotel room. Harry reached for him, pulled him in close and ran a hand through his stiff, styled hair. It was slightly sticky, but he didn’t mind. He pushed his nose into the crook of Louis’ neck, inhaling, memorizing the expensive, vaguely artificial smell he found there. He pushed closer, wanting more. Louis sighed against the crown of his head.

Harry dug his fingers into Louis’ hair harder, sifting through the expertly positioned strands. His fingers found the hard bone of the horns sitting atop Louis’ head, as they always did, eventually. He followed their spiraling curls with both hands, mapping the crown of them above Louis’ head. When he reached their tips -- their points sharp and rough on the pads of his fingers -- he felt Louis shudder against him. Harry paused, looking into Louis’ many eyes for reassurance. “Is this okay?” he asked, suddenly uneasy. Louis nodded, silent, all of his eyes focused on Harry, for once.

Harry smiled, inhaling his scent again. _Was it always like this? Was he always like this?_ He felt Louis relax into his embrace.

The humming, which had been relegated to the back of Harry’s mind, grew louder. Suddenly it was too loud. He cried out, clasping his hands over his ears at the noise. “Louis, Louis. Please,” he begged, a sob escaping his throat. “Stop this, please.” He buried his head in the fabric of Louis’ shirt, squeezing his eyes shut against the sound.

Louis wrapped his arms around him, the eyes on the palms of his hands leaving butterfly kisses against his skin. “Shh,” he whispered. His voice echoed, intertwined with the cacophonous humming, then broke like a wave crashing against a beach and faded. “I’ve got you.”

Harry looked up. He took in Louis’ slanted smile, the calm gaze of the eye on his chin. _I love you,_ he thought. “Thank you,” he said.

Louis blinked all his eyes at once and for a split second looked younger than he was, more human. Harry closed his own eyes at the image, intent on memorizing it before he forgot it. Satisfied he had, he turned away from Louis, rolled over, and let himself fall asleep to the rhythm of his unceasing humming.


End file.
